


A Walking Shadow

by alexcat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Cheating with permission, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: Rumlow has Jack, the best friend and lover he's always wanted.  Then he sees Steve Rogers. Nothing is the same afterward.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow
Kudos: 14
Collections: Of Elves and Men





	A Walking Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player  
> That struts and frets his hour upon the stage  
> And then is heard no more: it is a tale  
> Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
> Signifying nothing.  
> — Macbeth, William Shakespeare's Macbeth

Jack Rollins had only been with the team a few weeks. He seemed mostly sullen and angry to Rumlow, but that was fine. They were all either sullen and angry or plain, simple sociopaths here in Pierce’s little army. Rollins had been booted out of the Army Rangers. He had the skills. He just didn’t play well with others. A man didn’t need to play well in this group. He just had to know how to do what Pierce said and that was that. 

They, of course, did SHIELD missions, too. Rollins would only participate in those until Rumlow decided to bring him into the loop on their real mission. If he never brought him in, that was all right, too. 

Right now, the STRIKE team was in a foreign country and Rumlow and Rollins were cut off from their way out. Brock was sure the others made it back to the helos, but he was stuck out here with Jack Rollins. A good a time as any to find out what he’s made of, Rumlow thought. 

They hunkered down in the woods and waited. The others knew their approximate positions and someone would come for them soon. All they needed to do was not get shot while they waited. 

They found an old, abandoned shack in the woods. It didn’t look like anyone had been there in ages. They cleared the place and went inside to wait, since the sky had opened up and rain began to pour and Brock didn’t fancy sitting in the mud while they waited. 

Once they were inside, he asked Rollins, “You okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Rumlow shrugged, realizing that Rollins couldn’t see his shrug in the darkness. “First time out with a guy, you gotta find out his triggers and if he’s steady.”

“Guess so. Wouldn’t be here if I weren’t tough, would I?” Rollins asked him. 

“Nope.” 

“Then there you go.”

“You don’t give much away, do you?” Rumlow asked. He liked this guy. He didn’t waste a lot of time with words.

“Nope.”

Rumlow grinned to himself. Fair enough. 

They settled in and ate a couple of protein bars, drank a little of their water. 

“Sleep if you want,” Rollins said. “I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you in four hours.”

Rumlow nodded and wondered if Rollins understood how much trust he was putting in him, to let him take first watch before he was even sure that the man was competent. 

He let himself drift into a light sleep, or what he thought was a light sleep. The next thing he knew, Rollins was shaking him gently. “Wake up, Rumlow.” 

Brock realized he’d laid down on the floor in his sleep. Four hours had passed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “You get some rest.” 

Rollins nodded and was asleep in seconds. 

SHIELD came for them just before dawn. Rumlow woke Rollins. Delta team came into the shack, guns drawn. 

“Stand down,” Rumlow said. “Just me and Rollins. We just got cut off during the op and we couldn’t get back to the helo in time.”

Soon, they were on a Quinjet, heading back home to DC.

*

After that night, Rumlow began to depend on his newest recruit more and more. Rollins always had his back and was ready to do whatever needed doing. Rumlow really liked that in him. 

After a few months, Rumlow started noticing other things about Rollins. He was quiet, never saying much. Whenever there was conflict, he was ready to back Rumlow up and defend him, if need be. He was strong as an ox and did what Rumlow told him to do in the field. 

Since Rumlow was his team commander, he made sure their weapons and ammo were always ready, made sure his team members knew when and where they were expected to be and rode herd when he needed to on some of the younger members, who tended to get rowdy given half a chance.

Rollins usually gave him a hand. They were doing this late one Friday night, going over the weapons and ammo in the armory.

The Triskelion night crew was mainly just the ones who manned the massive surveillance system. The rest were home – the job for many of them being an 8 to 5 government job. 

They’d finished replacing the ammo and cleaning the weapons in the locker. Rumlow headed for the door, ready to go home. He was tired and looked forward to a couple of days off, if the world behaved. 

Rollins was standing in the doorway to the armory. He didn’t move. 

“What is it, man? I’m ready for this day to be done,” Rumlow said to him. 

Rollins never said a word, just grabbed him and closed the door. He shoved Brock up against the closed door and pressed into him. 

“What -” Rumlow started to argue, but then he felt Rollins’ cock against his belly. Fuck! The man was hard as a rock! 

Rollins didn’t say much, just ground his hips against Rumlow. He put his hands on Brock’s ass and jerked his body close, dry humping him like a horny boy. Rumlow couldn’t remember when he’d been so turned on. 

He kissed Rollins, who turned his head away from the kiss. 

“Men don’t kiss,” Rollins growled. 

“I’m a man. I do.” Rumlow actually liked to kiss, liked the closeness of it. A kiss between lovers was just a pantomime of the sex act sometimes, and as such, Rumlow was aroused by kissing almost much as he was by other physical contact.  
Rollins turned his head back and Rumlow touched his lips with his own. Rollins was still hesitant, but he parted his lips. Rumlow slipped his tongue inside, exploring, tasting the coffee they just drank. He flexed his hips against Rollins as they kissed. 

Rollins growled and shoved him hard against the door. Rumlow hung on as Rollins freed his own cock then worked the zipper on Brock’s trousers until he was able to slide his hand inside and pull him out. He managed somehow to wrap one of those big hands around both of them. 

Rollins leaned his head against Rumlow, breathing into his ear. Brock put his arms around him, fully expecting to have them shoved away. Rollins made a sound instead, a definite sound of pleasure. His hand was moving fast now and Brock was damn close. He couldn’t stop himself from fucking Rollins’ hand. 

“Jack, oh god, Jack!” he gasped, hanging onto Rollins. He came and it was intense, more intense than any hand job had ever been. Hell, it was more intense than any sex he’d had in years. Rollins grunted softly as he came and sought Rumlow’s mouth, surprising him with a kiss, as he pressed him into the wall. 

Rollins stayed where he was, fully flush against Rumlow for several minutes. Rumlow kissed his cheek then kissed the deep scar on his chin. Rollins buried his face in Brock’s shoulder. 

They stood there for several minutes, catching their breath and in Rumlow’s case, trying to decide how to proceed. 

“We should get cleaned up,” he finally said. 

Rollins nodded, but didn’t let go of him. “Come home with me,” Rollins said. 

Rumlow simply nodded. 

They cleaned themselves up and straightened the armory. Rumlow followed Jack when they left the building. Neither said much once they reached Jack’s little house out in the suburbs. Rollins unlocked the door and the men went inside. 

Once inside, Rollins tossed his keys onto a small table by the door and hung his jacket on one of the row of hooks above the table. 

Rumlow followed him to the den, a cozy little room with a big, old fashioned flowered sofa and a coffee table in front of it. On one wall was a wide-screened television. 

“Hungry? Thirsty?” Rollins asked him. 

“I’m fine.”

Neither of them sat yet. 

Rumlow wondered where this was going. He liked Rollins. A lot, actually. When Jack had shoved him against the wall in the armory, that was not the first time Rumlow had wanted him, just the first time he acknowledged it. 

“Come to bed?” Rollins asked. 

Rumlow nodded. 

Silently, Jack walked toward his bedroom. Once there, he turned and pulled Rumlow close again. Rumlow kissed him and the two men began to tug and pull on one another’s clothes until they were down to boxers. 

“Why don’t you like kissing?” Rumlow asked. 

“Kissed my dad once and he knocked me across the room. Didn’t do it again.” 

Rumlow nodded and was surprised when Jack kissed him. “I – doing it with you is different. Don’t feel stupid. Makes me feel hot inside.”

“It’s supposed to,” Rumlow said. 

They lay down, facing one another for only moments before they were embracing and kissing again. Rumlow noticed scars, some surgical, some maybe burn scars on Rollins’ body. “Accident?” 

“Yeah, when I was seventeen. Disfiguring, they said.” 

“They were wrong,” he told Jack, kissing the scar on his face. He moved down, kissing and touching the scars on his body. There was a long one from under his left chest down toward the right side. There were faint burn scars on his thighs. Brock was surprised at how turned on he was by them. He tugged at Rollins boxers, pulling them down and off. There were more scars, most faint but one ugly wide one was only inches from his penis. 

Rumlow felt Jack’s eyes on him. He traced the ugly scar with the tip of his tongue then looked up at him. 

“No one’s ever done that before,” Jack finally said, softly. 

Rumlow was no fool. He knew this was more than sex. He thought it had been since the night in the woods. This feeling for Jack Rollins was something new to him. He’d never felt protective of anyone before, never wanted to erase someone’s pain before. 

“Your scars turn me on. They mean you survived and you’re here.” He kissed the long one back up to Jack’s chest. “And now, you’re mine.” 

Rollins smiled, something Rumlow realized he’d never seen before. The smile showed how damaged his face really was. The right side of his mouth didn’t move and one of his eyes didn’t move when he looked at Brock. Funny how he’d never noticed. 

“I want you, Jack,” he whispered as he moved up to kiss his mouth again. 

“Yeah,” was all the answer he gave as he finished stripping Rumlow. He grabbed a bottle of something from the table and lubed himself up, then pushed Brock onto his back. He lifted Brock’s legs and moved between them. He rubbed himself against Rumlow’s tiny opening, wetting it with the slick lube and his own precome. “Want me to rub it inside?” Rollins asked. 

Rumlow shook his head. He didn’t want to wait. 

Rollins poured more lube and poured it on the outside of Rumlow’s ass, then slid himself in slowly, inch by inch. 

“Fuck!” Rumlow murmured, a little surprised that it really didn’t hurt very much.

Rollins stayed inside him for a bit without moving. When he did move, he did so slowly. He moved up so his body was on top of Rumlow. He braced himself on his hands on either side of Brock and began to fuck him, slowly and quite gently at first. 

“You’re so hot and so tight,” Rollins told him, his voice strained with effort as he was obviously trying to maintain control. 

“You’re hot and big,” Brock returned. 

Rollins smiled again. 

Brock pulled his legs up to give Rollins better access and as he found when Jack began to move faster, a better angle. 

Soon, Rollins was fucking him hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall behind it. Brock watched him as he came, a little shocked at the affection he was feeling, at wanting Rollins to be pleased so badly. Jack rammed deep into him and stayed until he was spent. 

When Jack moved to touch Rumlow, Brock stayed his hand. “It’s all right. I can wait a bit,” he told Rollins as he pulled him down onto his body to hold him closer. Rollins put his arms around Brock and buried his face in his chest. 

They lay quietly for several minutes as Rollins caught his breath. 

Jack moved off of Brock, pulling out as he moved to lie beside him. Rollins rolled up onto his side and ran his hand down Rumlow’s torso. Brock’s scars were not as deep and severe as his own but they were there, several from bullet wounds. “May I?” he asked as he leaned close to Rumlow’s scars.

“Yeah.” 

Jack kissed them, each one, then made his way down, taking Brock’s cock into his hand, stroking it as he licked it. He was fully hard again in seconds, lifting his hips into Rollins’ touch. He came quickly, surprised when Rollins caught his semen in his mouth, licking and sucking at his head until he was done. Jack moved back up to lie beside him. 

Neither of them said anything for several minutes then Rollins pulled him close. He spent the night in Jack’s arms. 

*

The two men were inseparable after that night. Rumlow kept his apartment, but spent most of his time at Rollins’ place. There were never any words said, no love words anyway. They never spoke or acted as if they were lovers at their jobs or in front of anyone else. Any of their coworkers, if asked, would have known nothing about their relationship. 

Jack was brought into the HYDRA fold, never telling even Rumlow that he didn’t give a flying fuck about HYDRA, or SHIELD, either, for that matter. He was there for Rumlow. 

Neither man knew when their doom was being awakened from the Artic ice. They knew about him soon after though, as Nick Fury’s triumph spread through SHIELD.

Both of them watched the events unfold in the battle of New York. Before the battle was even over, Rumlow got a call from Pierce.

“You and Sitwell get up there now and get that scepter. Tony Stark cannot be allowed to take it. Von Strucker says he can use it.”

They were on a Quinjet within minutes and Pierce joined them when they got to New York. 

It was in the lobby of Stark Tower that Rumlow saw Steve Rogers. This guy was a legend. He’d actually defeated their founder, Johann Schmidt. He looked to still be in his twenties, handsome as hell. Brock tried to ignore the surge of excitement he felt on seeing Captain America. He thought that this would make things interesting at Pierce’s SHIELD, very interesting. 

When Romanov had handed the scepter off to them, he’d nodded to Rogers. And felt an inexplicable excitement when Rogers had smiled and nodded back. He felt it all the way to his toes, too. He was so carried away with Rogers that he didn’t see the glare Rollins gave him. 

He later wondered why Rollins risked being seen to fuck him on the plane ride back to DC. They’d gone into the back of the plane and Rollins had exposed enough of both of them to fuck him against the bulkhead. 

“What the fuck, Jack?” he asked after they were done.

“You’re mine, Rumlow.”

“I am. You know that.” 

“Stay away from him. He’ll be the death of us both,” Rollins said as they set their clothes to rights. “He’s more dangerous than Pierce.” 

Rumlow looked surprised. “You sure you’re not just jealous?”

Rollins hugged him, something he seldom did, even when they were naked. “Maybe, but he’s dangerous to you and me. He’s our opposite. I know you want to fuck him, too. It’s all over your face.”

Rumlow started to argue, though he knew the argument would be a lie. 

Rollins continued. “Hell, Brock, I want to fuck him, too. I – I don’t want anything to happen to you. Don’t know what I’d do,” he finished awkwardly.

Rumlow patted his arm. “I’m okay. He’s just a kid, Jack.” 

*

Rumlow found that he couldn’t stay away from Rogers. The boy had something about him that made everyone want to follow him, want to do his bidding. He found himself following Rogers around like a puppy sometimes. He had an irrepressible urge to be close to him. 

Rollins was right. He wanted Rogers. He found himself pining like a fucking teenaged boy. He felt a secret thrill every time Rogers spoke to him. 

Sometimes he felt Jack’s eyes on him when he was ogling Rogers. 

About a month before the Lemurian Star incident, Rumlow got up his nerve and approached Rogers after work. 

“Take this however you want to, but I’m asking you out for a drink,” he said, running his words together a little. 

Steve sort of stared at him for a moment then nodded. “Okay. Where?”

“Peterson’s.” 

“Meet you there. When?” Steve smiled. 

“Eight?”

Steve nodded and sort of touched Rumlow’s shoulder as he left the building. 

Jack met Rumlow before he left the building. “I should be angry,” Rollins told him.

“You’re not?” 

“Like I told you when he first got here – we all want him.”

“Come with me tonight. I’ll share.” He had sudden need to smooth things over with Rollins.

Jack shook his head. “Not this time. You be careful. You know he will kill us both when he finds out the truth.” 

Rumlow shrugged. “You never know. Are you sure that – you’re not going to be angry with me?” 

“Maybe a little, but I’ll get over it.” Rollins looked around to make sure they were alone and pulled Brock close, kissing him as passionately as he’d ever kissed him.

Rumlow rubbed his mouth and stared at Rollins. “God, Jack, kiss me like that again and I’ll forget meeting Rogers.” 

“Go on.” And Rollins was gone.

Rumlow went to his own apartment and showered. HYDRA and Jack were his life. It was that simple, but Rogers, good god, the boy had made everything muddy. It was like he was a horny high school boy again. 

Rogers was waiting outside of the bar when he arrived. It would be an understatement to say Rumlow was nervous. He’d changed shirts three times before he left the apartment.

“Was beginning to think you’d stood me up,” Steve told him as he walked up to Rogers’ bike. 

“Traffic. And Jack waylaid me on the way out so I was a little late getting home.” 

They went into the bar. It was dark and loud. They found a table near the back, where no one would see them unless they were looking for them. This was the bar that the SHIELD folks hit after work, so there were familiar faces here and there. No one seemed to pay them any mind as they walked through. 

Steve ordered a whiskey and Rumlow followed suit. 

“I haven’t been here but once,” Steve told him. “Natasha likes her vodka and drinks that pricy stuff, so we normally just knock one back at her desk. She brought me here the one time.”

“You and Romanov seem close.” 

“She’s the only person I knew when I moved down here. All the people I knew are dead. It’s the hazard of being nearly a hundred.” Steve looked a bit sad for a second then schooled his face.

Rumlow shook his head. “Hard to even comprehend.”

Steve grinned. “No shit.” 

“So what’s the strangest thing about the modern world?” Rumlow asked, aware that was probably the question everyone asked him. 

“Maybe the internet. Maybe going on a date with a guy.”

Rumlow grinned at Steve. “So you aren’t that innocent, huh?” 

“I hope not. Natasha says I am.”

“She’s a Russian. We’re all innocent compared to her.” 

They drank and talked, mostly about the missions they’d been on, about other people they knew. Rumlow was a little tipsy, but not drunk. Steve didn’t get drunk, but he told Brock that up front. 

“Want to take this back to my place?” Steve asked him.

Rumlow almost choked for a moment. “Uh, sure.”

“I came on my bike. Want to follow me?” 

Brock nodded. Steve paid the tab and they went outside. Steve walked him to his car and before he got in, Rogers pulled him into an embrace and kissed him. “See you in a bit.” 

When they got to Steve’s place, they hurried inside and were in one another’s arms as soon as the door closed. Their hands were busy tugging and pulling at one another’s clothing. Rumlow was breathless as Steve’s hands slipped inside his unzipped jeans. 

“God, Cap, you handle it much and I’ll come right here.” 

Steve kissed and nibbled his neck, whispering into his ear, “I wanna fuck you,” in a Brooklyn accent that Brock had never heard him use before. 

“Here against the wall?” Rumlow asked him.

“I don’t care where. Do you?” He shoved Rumlow’s trousers and underwear down. 

Rumlow managed to step out of them. His shirt was unbuttoned and so was Steve’s. When Steve pulled him close again, their cocks rubbed against one another since Steve’s trousers were unzipped and slipped down far enough to expose him. 

Somehow, they managed to get over to the sofa and Steve’s trousers finally hit the floor along with both their shirts. 

“Damn! You’re hot,” Rumlow breathed against Steve’s mouth as they kissed, wet, sloppy, hungry kisses that imitated the sex act as Steve fucked Brock’s mouth with his tongue. 

Steve’s hands were between Brock’s legs, teasing his tiny hole with one hand while rubbing precome all over the head of his cock with the other hand. Rumlow was thrusting against one hand then the other. 

“I need -” he started to say when Steve spoke.

“What do you need, Brock?” That damn accent again! 

“You to fuck me.” He realized that he was practically begging. 

“I can do that.” 

Steve stopped what he was doing and got some lube off the end table. “Turn over,” he told Rumlow. Brock moved onto his belly on the sofa and hissed when he felt the cold drizzle of the lube on his ass crack. He made another sound when Steve rubbed it around his asshole, wetting it thoroughly then slipping one finger inside. Unerringly, he found Brock’s prostate and touched it. 

Brock arched forward, moaning out loud. 

The second finger slid inside him. He wanted to hump the sofa. He felt so needy that he wanted to beg Rogers to fuck him. 

Steve kissed one of his ass cheeks as he fingered him, in and out slowly and quite gently. Brock made a sound when he pulled away, then he realized what Steve was doing. Steve pulled him up onto his hands and knees and rubbed his cock over Rumlow’s opening, smearing lube and his own sticky precome all over it. 

Then he plunged inside, groaning loudly as his cock filled Brock’s ass. 

The sofa rocked as Steve fucked him hard and fast. Steve pulled him up into his arms and grabbed his cock, jerking him off as he fucked him. “Come with me!” he breathed into Rumlow’s ear as he slammed into him one last time. He came, spilling his seed deep into Brock’s ass, all the while, still moving his hand on Brock. 

Rumlow came, his ass tightening around Steve as semen spurted into the air and ran down Rogers’ hand. Steve held him until he stopped moving inside and outside. They both collapsed onto the sofa. 

“Stay?” Steve asked after a few minutes. 

Rumlow grinned. Jack may have been right about how dangerous Steve was. “Sure, but I’m not sure I can do more than sleep.”

Brock found that he was wrong about that, but he did spend the night. 

*

“Was he good?” Rollins asked as he and Rumlow lifted weights before their work day began a couple of days after he spent the night with Steve.

Rumlow blushed, something he hadn’t done since he was a kid. 

“That good, huh?” 

He looked at Jack. He’d expected reproach, but there was none. Jack seemed more curious than anything. 

“Yeah. He was as good as he looks.” 

Nothing more was said about it. Rumlow went home with Jack and went to Jack’s bed as he usually did. He was almost asleep when he heard the words, words he’d never ever considered something he needed to hear. 

“I love you, Brock. Doesn’t matter what you do, that will never change.” 

He had no idea what to say. He felt something for Jack. Was it love? He had no idea. He knew he needed Jack. Perhaps that was what love was. 

He couldn’t answer so he took Jack’s hand and squeezed it. 

*

Rumlow’s affair with Rogers didn’t end. He found that he craved the supersoldier like a drug, knowing that he was certainly as dangerous as a drug, too. They met once or twice a week and fucked like animals. He couldn’t seem to get enough of Rogers.

“You’re killing me,” he told Steve one night after they’d been at it for what seemed to be hours. 

Steve grinned. “Tell me what is this thing with you and Rollins. Are you and he – am I the other guy?” 

“We – yeah, we’re together. He knows about you, and he’s okay with it.” 

“He doesn’t care if I fuck you and you stay here in my bed?” Steve ran a hand down his side and rested it on his thigh. 

“We – no, he doesn’t mind.” The hand slid up Brock’s thigh to cup his balls. 

“I would mind. I’d want you all to myself,” Steve told him, moving closer and kissing him again. 

Rollins was always there when he dragged his exhausted ass home. He never said anything against Steve and never rebuked Rumlow for the affair. 

“You make me feel like a heel,” Rumlow told him one night as they lay in bed. 

Jack shook his head. “I wish you wouldn’t feel that way. I – your fucking him don’t take anything from what we have.”

Jack’s acceptance of it all did not lessen Rumlow’s guilt. 

There was a message for him one morning when he got to the Triskelion. “Pierce’s office ASAP,” was scrawled in Jack’s printing. 

He reported to the director immediately. 

Pierce, who in his seventies was still a startlingly handsome man, smiled when Rumlow stepped into his office. 

“You wanted to talk to me, sir?” 

“Sit down, Rumlow.” He pointed to a chair facing his large desk. Rumlow obeyed and sat. “I hear that you have been seeing Captain Rogers outside work.”

“Yes sir.” Denying it wouldn’t work with Pierce. He knew everything about them all. 

Pierce leaned forward. “So is his dick as big as the rest of him?”

The crude question surprised Rumlow. As brutal and mean as his boss could be, he always appeared to be urbane and civilized, even when ordering someone’s death. 

“Look, Rumlow, I know you’ve been his bitch for several weeks now. I asked a simple question, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir. He’s big, sir.” 

“I need you to keep a close eye on Rogers right now. Project Insight is important, probably the most important thing HYDRA has done since Schmidt died. We can root out and get rid threats to the new world order in one giant operation, and with a minimum of bloodshed on our part.”

He continued, “Rogers could be our greatest asset, but I have my doubts about that happening. Since you’re his fuck buddy, he’ll never suspect anything bad about you.”

Rumlow just stared for a moment. He might have known this day would come, but he’d been quite busy denying it to himself. He didn’t want to spy on Rogers. He liked him. A lot. Not like Jack, but still quite a lot. 

“Is this going to be a problem?” Pierce stood and looked out his window, then back at Rumlow.

“No, sir.” 

“Is he good?” Pierce asked. 

“Pardon?” 

“Rogers, is he good?” 

Rumlow blushed. “Yes, sir, he is.” 

“You may go.” 

Rumlow wasn’t sure how he felt about his new orders. How he felt didn’t matter. He was a soldier and he’d do as he was told. 

Rollins was waiting for him. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Wanted me to keep an eye on Rogers.” 

“You knew it was coming.” Jack touched his arm. Rumlow had always considered himself the smarter one in their relationship, but he wasn’t nearly as sure these days.

No matter what his assignment was, Rogers still excited the hell out of Rumlow. He was pretty sure that Steve felt the same way. They had a hard time keeping their hands off one another, even on missions. 

The Lemurian Star mission came up. Rumlow wasn’t read in on everything that was going on, but he knew that the ship was to launch the targeting satellites for Project Insight. He knew there was even more to Project Insight than he and the STRIKE team had been told. 

Even Rollins was amazed when Rogers jumped out of the plane without a parachute. It was the first time they’d had a chance to see just how powerful the supersoldier was. Rumlow felt a thrill when he watched him jump. 

After the mission was done and they were back in DC, Rogers was pissed at Fury and Romanov because Romanov had downloaded the satellite data from the ship. 

Rumlow wasn’t the least bit surprised at a text he got from Peirce. _Find out what Rogers knows_. That wasn’t too bad an order. It meant he had a good excuse to see Rogers. 

He asked Steve to go out for a drink.

“Wouldn’t you rather come back to my place?” Steve asked him, moving up close enough to rub himself against Brock’s ass. 

Rumlow grinned. “Need food first?” he asked. 

“We can order takeout. Right now, I want you.” 

Rumlow nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Back in Rogers apartment, they were all over one another as soon as the door was closed, as usual. As Steve dropped to his knees in front of Rumlow, he asked Steve, “What’s gotten into you? You’re more wired than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Something’s going on that I can’t put my finger on. Natasha was stealing some sort of data for Nick Fury and wouldn’t really tell me what the hell it was. Said she had a different mission than I did.”

“Spy stuff, sounds like.”

“Maybe, but this was my mission, or so Hill said.”

Brock needed more, but right now, he wanted that mouth on him. “Please,” was all he had to say to get Steve back onto his task. An hour later, they drank beer and waited for pizza. Brock was going to find it a little hard to sit tomorrow, but he didn’t care much. 

“So you don’t know what Natasha stole?” Brock asked him. 

“You’ll have to ask Sitwell.” Steve didn’t say much for a bit then asked Brock, “Why the hell was she getting something for Fury from a SHIELD ship anyway?”

“I’m too low on the food chain to know that.” 

“Oh well. I guess it doesn’t matter. We got the mission done, I suppose.” 

Rumlow spent the night with Rogers, not really surprised when Rogers reached for him in the night. Steve was usually up for two or three rounds. It left his ass dragging though. He got up early and kissed Steve goodbye before he left. 

He didn’t go straight home. He went, instead, to Jack’s. He knew he stilled smelled of Rogers when he stripped and got in the bed beside Rollins. Jack pulled him close and held him without saying anything for a while.

“He’s asking questions and so is Fury,” Brock told Rollins. 

“You going to report it to Pierce?” 

“It’s my job, isn’t it?” He looked into Jack’s eyes. 

“Up to you. The shit’s going to hit the fan soon whether you tell him or not. Sitwell knows what went down on that ship. He’ll tell Pierce, if you don’t want to.”

Rumlow nodded. 

*

Pierce sent Rumlow to the bank to retrieve the Asset. Jack was with him as well. 

The Asset was one scary fucker, Rumlow thought. He knew that this guy was the dude who used to be Rogers’s pal Barnes. Used to be, because this guy, the Winter Soldier, as Pierce called him, he was a stone killer. 

“He wants to see you. He has an assignment for you,” Rumlow told him. “Go to his house.” 

The Asset nodded and they escorted him out of the building. 

Rumlow had no idea just what the Asset was going to do, but he was pretty sure that he and the others would be called on soon, too. He drove back to the Triskelion and hunted Rollins. 

“We need to get the team ready. There’s an op about to happen,” he told Rollins as he pulled him into a nearby closet. He leaned against the closet door and pulled Jack close. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. Pierce is going to take on Steve. I’m not sure we can win against him.”

Rollins nodded. “We’ll do this together, Brock. It’s our job.” 

Rumlow couldn’t even tell Jack that he didn’t want to kill Rogers. Sure, what they had was just sex, but Rogers was not a bad guy. 

The operation was happening. Pierce sent the Asset after Fury and things didn’t go quite as planned. Fury had run to Rogers’ apartment, of all things, and the Asset shot hm there. Pierce sent him and his STRIKE unit to pick up Rogers and bring him to the Triskelion. 

No one said anything on the ride into the Triskelion. Rumlow delivered him to Pierce. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Pierce to go fuck himself and run off with Rogers. But he wasn’t sure Rollins would do the same and he knew he needed Rollins with him always. 

After Rogers left Pierce’s office, he signaled Rumlow to stop him from leaving the building. 

They went after Rogers in the elevator. After he’d beaten them all to a pulp, including Jack, Brock told him, “It’s not personal.”

Steve shook his head. “After all that you and I have done, it feels personal,” Steve said to him, then everything went black. 

Pierce screamed at him for over an hour. Rumlow sat and took his lumps like he always had. The good thing about HYDRA was that all of them would do anything to further its goals – that was also the bad thing about HYDRA. He thought Pierce was done when he answered the phone, talked for a moment and hung up. 

“They got Sitwell. I’m sending the Asset after Sitwell and that fucking Rogers. If the Asset doesn’t kill Rogers and the Russian bitch, you do it. I want them dead and fucking buried. If you can’t do it, then I’ll bury your fucking ass, too,” Peirce said to him. “You take your mad dog, Rollins, and get this thing done NOW!” 

Rumlow assumed that the Asset was already after Rogers, so he ordered as many of the STRIKE team as he knew was HYDRA and they headed for the place Rogers had been spotted. 

By the time they got there, Rogers was standing in the damned street, not moving a bit. He looked stunned and dropped to his knees as they walked up to him. 

They’d piled out and he and Jack had walked up to take Rogers into custody. Jack put his weapon to Rogers’ head. His finger was on the trigger. 

“Not here.” Rumlow had seen the news helicopters flying over and knew they couldn’t shoot Captain America right here on the street. “Put it down. Not here,” he told Jack.

He also knew, from the look on Jack’s face, that he was jealous of Rogers and wanted to kill him. Fuck! Why hadn’t he just said so? 

They put Rogers, Romanov and the guy with wings in one of the armored vehicles and when they stopped to shoot them, they were gone. Someone had warned SHIELD what was happening. He actually felt a little relief. As much as he knew jack did want to kill Rogers, he didn’t. All those hours in Rogers’ bed might have meant more than he realized.

They had a few hours to get ready to launch Operation Insight with its special mission. No one expected Rogers to come back through the front door of the Triskelion, but that’s what the bastard did. He marched in and made his speech to all of them. It was obviously a stall tactic. Rumlow just couldn’t figure out why. 

Then Pierce called him. “Launch it early. Now!”

He went down to the control room. Jack stayed with Pierce as the Council came in to watch the project launch. Of course, they didn’t know what it really was. They were all about to find out who really ran the show. 

The smartass Carter girl stood up to him, pulling her gun on him. They had a standoff for a few moments, but he was able to start the launch anyway once he got the wimpy guy out of the way. He wished he could shoot them all! 

He hoped things were going better for Rollins. He headed up the stairwell toward the council chambers. Sam Wilson, one of Rogers’ friends, waylaid him on the 41st floor. He knocked the shit out of him, but Wilson kept coming anyway. 

“This is gonna hurt. There are no prisoners with HYDRA, just order. And order only comes with pain.” Wilson got up. “Are you ready for yours?” Rumlow asked him.

“Shut the hell up!” Wilson finally told him. 

He beat on Wilson some more. The stupid bastard wouldn’t quit. He must have learned that from Rogers. 

“You’re out of your depth, kid.” 

He noticed the fear on Sam’s face and the kid wasn’t even looking at him! One of the damned carriers crashed into the building. He ran. 

And ran! 

Then nothing. 

*

When he woke up, Rumlow thought about the last things he’d said to Wilson about pain. He’d never bargained for pain like this. The goddamned building had crashed on him! 

He tried to say something, but no words came out. 

“Mr. Rumlow, don’t try to talk.” The nurse was soothing and annoying at the same time. 

“R-rol-Jack!” he managed to get out. 

“The doctor will be with you in a few minutes, Mr. Rumlow.” 

She left. The doctor came in somewhere between five minutes and five hours later. Time didn’t make much sense. He was in a wash of pain. 

“Mr. Rumlow, you were burned when the building fell. Right now, we’re just trying to get your injuries taken care of then we will work on rehabilitation.”

“Jack?”

“I’m afraid Mr. Rollins died in the Triskelion.”

He’d thought the pain of his injuries was bad until he heard those words. Jack was dead? Jack? How the hell could that be? He’d never told him – what? Never told him he’d loved him. Surely he knew? 

He was surprised at the sound he heard. It sounded like a wounded animal, begging to be put out of its misery, then he realized the anguished cries were his own! 

The needle that came soon after was a mercy and he faded into nothingness. 

In the next few days, he actually improved a great deal. His injuries were not that bad, considering a building fell on him. He had sustained some nerve damage that seemed to be inhibiting his pain receptors. His face, however, was another thing. He was burned pretty bad. His ear was fused to the side of his head and the burns covered one whole side of his face, across to the other. Without plastic surgery, he’d be horribly scarred. 

“We can fix it. We need you to heal first then we’ll do the plastic surgery and reconstruction,” the doctors told him. 

What the hell did he care? Jack was gone. HYDRA was almost all gone as well. What did he even have to live for? Prison? Lethal injection? 

He began to plan. He knew people on the outside. None of them were HYDRA, but many of them were just as bad. He made contact and one of the Maggia crime gang helped him escape. He didn’t need a pretty face to do what he planned to do.

He did need money and a place to go to ground for a bit. He had not been a complete fool when he was working for Pierce. He’d squirreled away some of the loot they’d managed to get here and there in an offshore account that not even poor Jack knew about. 

Jack! He physically hurt when he thought of Rollins. Why had he wasted those last few weeks sucking Rogers’ dick when he could have been with Rollins? He’d been a fucking fool! And Rogers had just been fucking with him! They’d both known that. 

Time passed and his physical wounds healed, but his heart was crushed. He hated Rogers for taking him from Jack, hated Romanov for probably being the one who killed Jack, and he hated himself for letting Jack down. 

He used his money to have a suit made with weapons that gave him almost superhuman powers and named himself Crossbones. He worked for whoever paid him the most and there was no deed too ugly for him. He used his jobs to gain intel on the Avengers. 

They would pay! 

Rogers would pay!

He knew when he planned the Lagos mission that the Avengers would be there. He’d counted on it. He wanted Rogers to know this was his revenge for all he’d done! He didn’t tell his team that he wasn’t planning on surviving the mission himself. They truly believed they were just there for the bio agent. 

He’d had enough. He couldn’t go on. The same injuries that had deadened his pain receptors had also taken away all the pleasure in being touched as well, as if anyone would touch him the way he looked now. Hell, even Rollins might have turned away from the monster he’d become. 

The Avengers made a holy hell mess of his plans, but he’d known them long enough to know that was a given if they showed up. They killed most of his men and recovered the vial.

He was still going to get his chance with Rogers. 

The two of them fought and his suit made him an even match for the bastard – for a while. 

Rogers grabbed one of his gauntlets and tossed it on the ground. Rumlow went after him with the other one, but Rogers knocked him all the way across the open square. He pulled his helmet off while he waited for Rogers. 

He had a surprise for the bastard. 

“I think I look pretty good, all things considered,” he said as Rogers grabbed him. 

“Who’s your buyer?” Rogers asked. He apparently still thought this was about the bio agent. 

“You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy Bucky.”

Rogers pulled him closer. “What did you say?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it, ‘til they put his brain back in the blender. He wanted you to know something. Please tell Rogers ‘when you gotta, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me.” He’d opened his vest to reveal his suicide bomb. He held the detonator in his hand. He pushed the button. 

He hadn’t thought he could feel pain anymore, until he hit the switch. His entire body felt like it was being blown apart. It was. He screamed and screamed. 

And then it all went black and Rumlow felt no more pain. 

*

Rumlow never knew if anyone mourned him. 

Steve Rogers was the only one who even bothered to note his passing. There was nothing left to bury except his helmet. Steve had taken it. He hunted where Rollins might be buried. He found that Rollins had family, a mother and a sister. They had buried him in a small cemetery in an equally small town in Kentucky. It was where Jack had grown up.

Rumlow had no one that he could find. 

He knew that Rumlow and Rollins had been together, had been lovers. Brock had told him. 

He contacted Rollins’ sister.

“Your brother’s best friend and CO died recently, and since he had no family, I was wondering if we might bury him beside your brother.” 

“I guess so. Who’s gonna pay for it?” She didn’t sound too interested. 

“I am.”

She was quiet on the phone for a minute. “Was that guy my brother’s, uh, boyfriend?” 

Steve decided she sounded like she might not approve if he told her the truth so he lied. “They were best friends, ma’am. That’s all I know.”

“Mama would have a fit if we buried his boyfriend bedside him. She never was too happy that Jack didn’t marry and have some kids, instead of being a soldier. She never believed Daddy when he told her Jack was a fag. Probably best she never knows.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, then got the information he needed from Jack’s sister. He contacted a local funeral home and the cemetery. He also put what bits of Rumlow’s suit they’d gathered together into a small coffin with the helmet and had it buried beside Jack Rollins in that small municipal cemetery in Rockhaven, Kentucky. 

The tombstone read:

  
_Brock Rumlow_  
_1965 – 2016 _  
_For he today that sheds his blood with me_  
_Shall be my brother_ __

**Author's Note:**

> My [**Tumblr**](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/alexcat45).


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